


Crayons to Chaos

by Kissing_Toast



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst - kind of, Dean Blames Himself, Dean's POV, Death, Gratuitous use of run-on sentences... again, I'm Serious, If you haven't seen up to and including S10 you will get spoiled!, Love, Poor Dean, Sacrifice, Self-Sacrificing Dean, Self-Sacrificing Sam, Spoilers for all seasons, The Epic Love Story of Sam And Dean Winchester (but not in a wincesty way), They're the friggin' Winchesters, brotherly bond, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4182507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissing_Toast/pseuds/Kissing_Toast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the moment Dad put Sammy in his arms and told him to run, to keep him safe, Dean has been doing just that. And he always will.</p><p>(Not written to be wincesty but if that's your preference I guess it's kinda there if you squint real, real hard.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crayons to Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> So this is entirely inspired by Safe & Sound by Taylor Swift (I figure she's fair game now that she's canonically Dean's guilty pleasure singer xD), so much so that I've worked the lyrics into the fic. I tried to get into Dean's head but IDK how well I did... Suffice it to say that I was pretty moved by the end of S10 and wanted to write something that spans all the seasons in some way without it becoming a 300k word epic.
> 
> *shrug* I got a bit teary-eyed writing it.
> 
> (Title is - oddly enough - from an Eminem song.)

It's an old memory. Probably the oldest one Dean truly remembers with any clarity, despite the edges having become muzzy and frayed. Shouts, confusion, panic. Then Sammy is thrust in his arms and he's being told to go outside. He runs.

Sammy's crying, eyes red and tears streaming down his round cheeks. Even in his four-year-old mind Dean understands that he has to take care of him. Has to keep him safe.

“It's ok, Sammy.” He says, trying to comfort the baby in his arms. _I'll never let you go_. Dean turns to look up at the window, now lit with golden fire. Then he's swept up by his father and his world seems to explode.

Later, after the fire is gone and nothing but acrid smoke surrounds him he sits with Sammy and Daddy on the hood of the car. His father's eyes are all for the aftermath of destruction but Dean's eyes turn to Sammy, now cradled in John's arms, and knows that his baby brother doesn't want Dean to leave him.

 

* * *

 

Childhood becomes a battle field and 'Protect Sammy' becomes his creed. They're at another nameless motel in another nameless town and Dean watches another sunset through ratty curtains with “Watch out for Sammy” ringing in his ears.

Dad's been gone for three days and Dean's climbing the walls. Before leaving he checks on Sam; he's in the bedroom, lashes fanning over chubby cheeks and chest moving in the slow breath of deep sleep. _No one's gonna hurt you, Sammy_ , he thinks with a smile.

The arcade game keeps him occupied for hours, until the manager has to lock up and Dean has to leave. He feels better, less antsy, but back in their motel room Sam is in trouble. Dean sees the monster, sees it hurting Sammy, its shadow slowly consuming him and sucking him dry. The rifle is in his hand on pure instinct but when the time comes to shoot he hesitates. Dad bursts through the door and before Dean knows what's happening gunshots are sounding and the shadow is gone. Sammy's okay.

Dad said it only takes one mistake, and this is Dean's first. The first time he fails.

 

* * *

 

Christmas without Dad, though he promised he'd be back. Sam is getting old enough to understand the abnormality of their lives but Dean is trying to protect him, keep him safe. Finally, though, he caves and explains what Dad does: how he's a superhero, the coolest Dad in the world. Sam is worried that the monsters will get them like they got Mom. Dean says _No, they won't_ and _Trust me_. It's his job to protect Sammy, it'll always be his job.

Dad doesn't show and Dean maybe hates him a little for that. Feels disappointed in himself when the packages he swiped from a house up the block turn out to be chick presents, exposing his efforts to cover for an absent father. But when Sam gives him the present initially intended for Dad his heart swells and he thinks they're gonna be alright.

 

* * *

 

He's sixteen and in cuffs, sitting in some guy's living room and sniggering at the cop with a shiner. He knew Sam would get hungry while Dad was away and after losing their money he had no choice but to steal. He'd do it again.

He stays a couple of months at the boys home and distantly he's aware that it's the longest he's been away from his brother since Mom died. But Sonny's support, his first kiss, the potential of all that apple pie - it all seduces him. Dad left him here to learn his lesson, he has to be a good soldier.

One night he's standing on the precipice of choosing normality when Dad returns, Sammy returns, and as he watches them from the window with tear-stained cheeks, he really wants to take Sonny's offer of _home_. He wants to take his girl to the dance. Sam is hanging out the back window of the Impala playing with that stupid toy fighter jet he got for his last birthday and Dean hears the distant vestiges of his promise:  _I'll never let you go_.

It's really no choice at all.

 

* * *

 

The night Sam says he's leaving for Stanford they're on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and Dean can't help but feel that he's failed. He's angry and hurt, sure, but he's also scared because if Sam isn't here, if he's gone, Dean won't be able to protect him like he's supposed to. Like Dad expects him to.

This memory is hazier than the others. Truth be told, Dean doesn't really want to recall it too clearly.

He feels abandoned and betrayed and he just stands by and watches numbly as Dad tells Sam not to come back. He can understand the motivation behind the words, God knows he wants to say that and worse to his brother right now, but they can't be taken back once uttered and hearing them fall from Dad's lips is like hearing a door slam closed – lock it up tight and throw away the key.

When the sun set on this day they were a family; Dad was still trying to exact his revenge and Dean was still making sure that nothing could hurt Sam. Come morning, when Sam's gone, he can't be sure that his brother will be safe and it cuts him to the core.

Looking back, maybe that's when the war truly started. Or maybe it was just the first time he realized that there was even a war to be waged.

 

* * *

 

He got Sam back but the trade off was losing Dad. At least that's the way it seems to Dean sometimes, when he lets himself think about it too hard. They're orphans drifting on the wind, estranged enough after Sam's absence that Dean wonders if the cracks between them can ever be mended. After all, it took Jess's death to get Sam back on the road, back into the family business. A _family_ and a _business_ that Dean knows Sam never wanted in the first place. He knows this unequivocally, just like he knows that if Jess hadn't become collateral damage Sam would be living an apple pie life right now.

In the wake of Dad's passing the pain sometimes becomes so great that his long-sacred creed is the only thing keeping him going. He has to protect Sam, has to keep him safe. Especially as the Yellow-Eyed Demon's grand scheme is revealed and Dad's parting words are echoing though his head like a _Get thee behind me, Satan_.

Belatedly he realizes that they're embroiled in a war that all comes down to Sam. That Mom died because some demonic bastard wanted Sam. That Dad made a deal for his own life because of Sam. That they wouldn't have to watch everyone around them die if it wasn't for Sam. It all comes down to Sam, and a part of Dean hates himself for hating that about his brother. And then the life-long tenet kicks in and he fights another day to keep Sam safe.

Sometimes when he dreams, Mom is there, radiant and loving, giving him pie and telling him with a smile and a look of serenity that contradicts her words: “Don't look out the window, angel, it's all on fire out there.”

 

* * *

 

The tears are wetting Dean's cheeks this time but he thinks that Sam would be crying too if he wasn't slipping away so fast, eyelids drooping, mouth gone slack. The shadow is swallowing up his light until there's nothing left, until there's no Sammy left. One night, one moment and it's all dead and gone, all passed and he can't do a damn thing about it. He's failed.

There's a war raging outside their door and the only thing Dean can think is to get Sam back.

Because he only had one job and he screwed it up and how is he supposed to live with that? What the hell is he supposed to do?

That's why he makes the deal.

 

* * *

 

He's had a year to prepare Sam for a life without him. A year to make sure that Sam will be safe. A year to remind himself that, once again, he's failed. The difference this time is that he can see the failure reflected in his brother's eyes. In the tears streaming down Sam's wrecked face as he leans over his brother's corpse, holds him close and sends out a silent plea of _Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone_.

Even as the hounds drag his soul into the pit, he keeps repeating his hope – his prayer – for Sam's safety, like a protective mantra. _Please God, just let Sammy be safe_.

He holds on to that hope, like a childhood lullaby, long after the music is gone and the melody forgotten. _Please God, don't let me fail_.

 

* * *

 

Sam drank blood, trusted a demon and loosed the Devil from his prison. Dean wants to hate him for it, even throws Dad's bitter words at him in a last attempt to curb the suicidal quest – _If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back._ Sam leaves anyway. He walks out the door, head-first into the war that's burning on their doorstep.

Dean's failed, again, and still he moves heaven and hell to save his brother. Because watching out for Sammy is his job.

 

* * *

 

Watching Sam triple-lindy into the Cage is one more painful moment in a lifetime of painful moments. Dean's soul shatters in that moment, beaten and bruised by Lucifer's meat suit, and for the longest time after the ground has swallowed Sam up the only thing Dean can do is kneel over the markerless grave, head bowed, tears mingling with the blood staining his cheeks.

He watched Sam take back control, close his eyes and sacrifice himself, tell Dean that it was going to be okay. Lucifer almost swallowed up Sam's light. In the reverent silence of afterwards, the only thing Dean can think is: _I didn't want you to leave me here alone. You shouldn't have had to die for this. That's my job_.

 

* * *

 

The soulless thing parading around as his brother is like a nightmare come to life. It's a jab in the eye of everything Dean has ever fought for. It's another reminder – no, a blatant paradigm – of how Dean managed to fail Sam for the millionth time. There's not even any light in Sam to be swallowed up now. Just a robotic abyss that makes Dean shudder if he stares into it for too long.

That's why Dean lays himself out on the tracks again for Sam. Closes his eyes and makes a wager with Death to get Sam back, safe and sound. And if the wall breaks, well, that one's gonna be on Dean too. Just another failure.

 

* * *

 

Purgatory is blood and teeth and primal needs but he knows – _knows_ – that it's worth it if he can get back to Sam.

It's like a twilight gone to blackest night when he finds out that Sam didn't look for him, didn't move the earth off it's axis to get him back like Dean would have, and for a long, long time that revelation spreads a scathing hate through him. It bubbles and ferments until he thinks he would rather see Sam dead than have to keep anyone or anything from hurting him... but as always they choose each other, they choose family, and eventually the betrayal fades and he's back to base-line – back to default – and it's all about _You'll be safe, I'll keep you safe,_ again.

Just like it always was, like it always will be.

 

* * *

 

When Sam decides to do the Trials it's a dagger to the heart. Dean can't find the words to explain why he won't let Sam do it, why it has to be him instead. His life's not worth more than what it can barter, bargain or buy, for Sam's. So, what he tells Sam is to keep chasing that normality they've never had. But they both know better by now. It's a pipe dream.

When Sam is standing in that church, more shadows than light, vibrance but a memory, about to give the King of Hell a fistful of sanctified blood, Dean can't – he simply can't watch Sam's eyes close on him again. They've come back so many times that by now it's expected. If Sam thinks that Dean will watch him give his life because of some misguided notion that Dean doesn't want him, he's wrong.

Dean tells him in no uncertain terms that there is nothing he'll ever put in front of Sam. Because he won't. The indoctrinated catechism has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The fire Mary spoke of in his dreams cascades from the heavens as they race from the church to see the angels fall.

 

* * *

 

Letting Ezekiel in is one of the easiest decisions he's made because hearing Sam say to Death that he wants sweet oblivion means that Dean has failed yet again. _Always watch out for Sammy_ , it's as automated as breathing.

Sam hates him for it, Dean knows. He's called his brother's saviour in accusatory tones and can't figure out how to explain that, yes he is, always has been, because the whole point is them, fighting the good fight together.

That most recent failure pulls them further into the war, it's no longer outside their door, it's broken the door down and now the whole house is on fire. Dean doesn't even hesitate when the warning forms on Cain's lips. He says yes, a million times yes – it will always be _yes_.

 

* * *

 

Metatron's blade pierces his chest just as he turns to look at Sam. It's no contest. He'll throw his insignificant little life away even now, just let Sam be safe, let him be alright. No price too great to pay as long as Sammy sees another dawn.

Sam's face is streaked with tears again and Dean tells him, “I'm proud of us.”

Dean's _I'll never let you go_ goes unspoken but this time it's a lie. And Sam's silently screaming at him, _Don't leave me alone_.

It's Dean that is engulfed by the shadows. His blistering, intense light goes out. Green turns to black. The lullaby dies on his lips, a death rattle drowning out the music of his life. It's gone, all dead and gone.

But at least Sammy's safe.

 

* * *

 

The Mark gives him a clarity that was elusive even while he was a demon. And though he knows that it will destroy him, destroy everything he loves, a small selfish part of him can take that maniacal clarity and run with it. The Mark, the Blade. It's all a means to an end.

Cain speaks to him of fate. Echoes Dean's greatest fear in his words. _My story began when I killed my brother, and that's where your story inevitably will end._

Dean denies it but it's all just reckless bravado. A knee-jerk response, the prime invocation of his creed: _Watch out for Sammy_. Keep him safe, let no one hurt him. But deep down in the recesses of his soul he knows – knows that, yes, he _will_ end up destroying the one thing he's spent a lifetime trying to protect because the Mark is making him into something he doesn't want to be.

 

* * *

 

Death has agreed to help him, only a small price to pay, coins for the Ferryman. He has to take Sam's life. And so Cain's decree comes full-circle, the myth becomes real.

Sam will never stop trying to save his brother and it hits Dean in a moment of strangled epiphany that Sam has become him. All they have is each other and they try and try but they can't survive alone. From a mother burning on the ceiling, to a childhood of traveling on back roads, to starting and averting the Apocalypse. They've seen Heaven and Hell and Prugatory and every damn thing in between. They've lived in the shadows that feed on the light. They've died and come back and died again. They've closed their eyes and opened them anew, like the sun going down and come morning it all starts over. An endless loop, a vicious cycle, of death and despair.

Evil shall with evil be expelled, and Dean knows that's exactly what they've become; he beats that truth into Sam since he's too blind to see it. If you dance with the Devil the Devil doesn't change, the Devil changes you. Somehwere along the line _Saving people, hunting things_ became _Don't leave me here alone/No, I'll never let you go_ and everything they touch turns to ashes around them. Mary was right, the whole world is on fire outside their window and they're the cause. The war keeps raging on and they're powerless to stop it.

Death's scythe is heavy in his hands, heavy with the weight of what he has to do.

Sam, his Sammy, kneels before him. He understands.

“Sammy, close your eyes.”

And Sam's pulling out photos of Mom, and them as kids, saying let these be your guide, while Death is calling him a stain on their memory and Dean knows that he has to do it but he can't move.

And tears are streaming down his brother's face and Dean is thinking _I'll never let you go_.

And Sam's eyes are saying _Don't leave me here alone,_ and Dean is seconds away from being the shadow that kills his light.

And he's been here before. In that moment when John put Sammy in his arms and told him _Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!_

And he says, “Forgive me” and Sam closes his eyes and Dean swings the scythe and kills Death.

And Dean knows he's doomed, _they're_ doomed – ever since demonic fire ripped them out of the world and obliterated their lives. All that was and should have been and never came to be, dead and gone and passed that long ago night.

And as they step out into the light, destruction begins falling from the sky and billowing across the earth.

And they take refuge in the Impala, the only real home they've ever had, and watch the Darkness draw closer but if they just close their eyes maybe they'll be alright. And come morning light, they'll be safe and sound.

 

=end=

 


End file.
